


Foursome Series

by fhsa_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, Holidays, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-02
Updated: 2004-11-08
Packaged: 2019-02-05 15:48:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12797616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: A Christmas wish comes true for Alex.





	1. 1 - A Christmas Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Notes: Written for Ursula's Christmas challenge: one character must dress out of financial necessity, disguise or undercover work as Santa and our beloved Nick must appear in one of his incarnations. 

 

 

Santa's chair sat squarely before the expensive toy store's floor to ceiling window. Early afternoon sun streamed through, muted by the darkened glass. The line of children waiting to clamber up onto his lap snaked through the first aisle with easily up to two hundred little expectant faces gazing up at the big gold chair ahead of them. 

 

The dancing toy bears twirled beside the chair and little stars twinkled at ceiling height, lazily spinning their silver shards in the air. Beside and all around the chair, on the royal red carpeting, were gift wrapped boxes, adorable woodland animals, fake snow piled up in cloud-like bunches, cherubic angels blowing into gold trumpets and small gaily decorated Christmas trees dusted with snow. 

 

Santa's helper, a tall elf with ears that pointed sharply into the air giving his narrow face a streamlined look, especially with the newly shorn hair style, helped the children up, depositing them in Santa's lap and handing out candy canes when they were finished whispering their Christmas wishes to the jolliest elf. 

 

This was no ordinary Santa though and neither was the elf. They were watching the bank across the street, patiently waiting for a bank robber to hit his next target. 

 

The saintly Santa was assistant director Walter Skinner, called into rare field duty for the case and his elf was being played by John Doggett. Mulder was nearby too, posing as a hotdog vendor. He had borrowed the cart for the week, with his assurance to the vendor that the robber would hit the bank on the busy corner, according to his expert analysis of the brash and violent robber's pattern. 

 

He kept stamping his feet to chase away the chilly, damp December air. He was dressed appropriately for the season and circumstance in a navy pea coat, blue jeans, white fisherman's sweater with added warmth in the form of a heavy tee shirt underneath, thick soled boots, a navy wool cap covering his wayward hair, a navy scarf around his neck and matching fleece gloves. His F.B.I. issued gun was in the shoulder holster hidden by his coat and a back up piece weighed his foot down. His shield was strung around his neck. The chain was cold against his skin. 

 

He had been on the corner selling hotdogs and cold sodas for two days now and the smell of the wieners was making him nauseous. He didn't think he'd ever eat anything shaped like a sausage again. 

 

He looked across to where his boss and lover Walter was making jolly with their other companion John. He figured he got the better part of the deal. Sure it was a little nippy, but a hot, crowded store filled with crying children wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. 

 

Walter scowled across the street at Fox. Sure he was in the warm store sitting on his ass all comfy and cozy in his suit and poor Fox was out on the street, on his feet, braving the cold, but he still figured that Fox had gotten the better part of the deal. 

 

************************************************************ 

 

All three of them entered their spacious ranch house exhausted at the end of the day. Each took their turn grumbling about their hard day and the fact that the robber had yet to make an appearance. 

 

"One more damned, sticky, crying kid and I'm calling it quits," Walter threatened. 

 

"All those adorable kids asking Santa for presents? Come on, it can't be that hard," Fox teased. 

 

John shot him a dirty look, begging him to be quiet with his crystal blue eyes. 

"Now I know why animals eat their young," Walter growled. 

 

Fox threw his head back and laughed. 

 

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about. My kid never acted like that," John added. 

 

Walter rubbed John's shoulder affectionately. "You don't know the half of it, Fox. Sure, sitting on my ass all day, all nice and cozy sounds great, but add five hundred crying, excited, screaming brats, two of whom puked on me, might I add, and you'd want to slit your wrists." 

 

Fox shrugged. "If I see one more hot dog, I'll puke." 

 

"Just make sure I don't see it or have to clean it up," John replied. 

 

They retreated in silence to the master bedroom. Each went to their own corner to undress, folding up their costumes for the next day. Fox threw his clothes on a chair, adding a change of boxers, socks and tee shirt for tomorrow. 

 

It was only when they submerged themselves into the hot, bubbling water of the oversized tub that they all relaxed and crowded close to each other. The steaming water worked to relax them body and mind, along with the eucalyptus and rosemary oil to soothe the headaches they could all feel coming on. 

 

They closed their eyes and pressed closer so that they touched, silky thighs and arms slick with oil rubbing easily against each other. Walter, in the middle, put a muscular arm around each man and hugged them tightly. Silently they communed in the water, erasing the stresses of the day in a froth of bubbles, forgiving each other's moods in the hot, cleansing water. 

 

They gave a sigh of contentment in unison and the two men book-ending Walter sank a little lower, grinning mischievously. They each grabbed hold of Walter's thick cock that was slowly filling and hardening. 

 

"Up periscope," Fox whispered and lowered his head. 

 

****************************************************************** 

 

The fourth day of the case had all three of them fidgeting nervously. Fox was a little worried now about his analytic skills. It was time for the robber to strike again. If nothing happened within the next couple of days, they might just be ordered to pull out. John had consoled him that morning over breakfast that there was still plenty of time for the perpetrator to strike. Walter agreed with John. With Christmas just around the corner, people were withdrawing large amounts of money to do their shopping and shop patrons were depositing huge sums, sometimes several times a day. It was prime season for stealing. 

 

The day was bright, the sun shining fiercely on the pavement drying the sidewalk at Mulder's feet and melting the snow banks. Business was brisk at his hot dog stand. Walter and John were having a good day as well, the misbehavior of yesterday's children forgotten as a new line of smiling, excited faces looked up at them. 

 

Walter would check on John's mood from time to time, wondering how his lover was affected by the steady stream of children, after losing his own golden-haired son. Although John's heart ached at the sight of the beautiful boys and girls he was glad he could give them a little joy, something he didn't often get to do in his job. 

 

***************************************************************** 

 

The little boy in front of them played with a yo-yo as they walked down the sidewalk. He expertly coaxed the neon orange toy to do every trick he knew. His mother kept a careful watch on him, steering him clear of pedestrians bustling around the trio with their bundles piled high in their arms. Alex and Lisa walked side by side but not arm in arm. Although the petite single mom had cast an interested eye in the bachelor's direction he had gently let her down. She had responded in kind, "the cute ones are always married or gay," but they remained friends and he became a surrogate father figure of sorts to her son, David. 

 

He really didn't do much. Just hung out with mother and son on occasion, did little errands for his neighbor, babysat David once in a while to give Lisa some time with her friends or just to take in the odd movie on her own. He usually took David to the arcade, spent a quiet evening in his or David's apartment helping with home work and a treat of television and popcorn or practicing his swing at the baseball diamond in the local park. 

 

They passed the toy store as they window-shopped. Lisa lingered, but David passed by, not even bothering to look. Alex stayed behind him. That was all Lisa needed--her son wandering off or disappearing. 

 

"Hey wait up. Come here," she called. 

 

David sighed and turned around, dutifully returning to his mother's side. "You can't afford anything here, mom." 

 

"Looking is free." 

 

"Whatever." He scuffed his shoes against the pavement. 

 

Alex got the message and steered him inside. "Who knows? Maybe Santa will bring you something." 

 

"There's no such person," he muttered. 

 

"How do you know that?" he challenged. 

 

"Because mom is Santa." 

 

Alex shrugged, unable to argue further. 

 

They entered the busy store, drawn into the vortex of excited kids. David's mood lightened only slightly while he walked slowly up and down every single aisle. The most his mom could afford was a miniature matchbox car, a pack of playing cards or a tiny stuffed animal from the expensive merchandise. That didn't keep him from playing and wishing though. 

 

Alex figured he just might play Santa this year. He'd never been around kids much, but David was a good, responsible boy and he deserved a nice holiday even if he was too old to believe. He knew that a couple of presents wouldn't solve his entire life but it would make the holidays a little sweeter. 

 

Lisa managed to drag her son to see Santa. He called Alex over. "I'm only going to see Santa if Alex does." He crossed his arms as if for emphasis. 

 

Alex rolled his eyes. "Please kid, I'm like three decades over the limit." 

 

"Too bad. Those are my terms." 

 

Alex considered. David was stubborn. Figures, he was a Taurus. Lisa was giving him a puppy dog look while trying desperately not to laugh. 

 

"All right, but if you tell anybody about this, there will be hell to pay." He joined the line trying to look dignified as he stood tall amidst the children and their mothers. 

 

David pushed him forward when they were at the velvet rope dividing the crowd from Santa's chair. Alex reluctantly stepped forward, his feet dragging, a blush coloring his cheek, as he made his way up the steps to the red-carpeted stand. 

 

He looked down at his feet, up at the starry ceiling, at the elf's green pointy shoes, anywhere but the faces of Santa and his elf. In doing so he missed Walter's brown eyes widening in amazement and John Doggett's startled blue eyes and thin-lipped smirk. 

 

"Well you're quite big for a little boy," Walter chortled, trying desperately to disguise his voice. "Ho, ho, ho, would you like to sit on Santa's lap?" 

 

"Whatever," Alex mumbled. 

 

"Well, come on then little boy," he replied cheerfully, hoping that Alex wasn't too heavy. Both John and Fox were tall but lean men. He was used to their weight on his lap and happily bore it but Alex was more muscular. 

 

He gingerly sat down, rigidly keeping his butt on the edge of the man's knees. He was so close to the edge of Santa's lap that he was in danger of falling off. Walter pulled him firmly closer. 

 

The kids in the line began laughing and exclaiming their surprise at seeing an adult man on Santa's lap. With one quick cutting glare from Alex's eyes, the laughter died down and the children cowered at their mothers' sides. He turned back to Santa, all innocent and shy. 

 

The fluffy white beard puffed against Alex's cheek as Santa's warm breath blew it against his face. He dared a peek. His warm brown eyes twinkled above rosy cheeks. The eyebrows were swept up and temporarily dyed a silvery white to match his beard and the curly hair poking out from under his hat. 

 

"So what would you like for Christmas?" 

 

Alex thought for a few minutes. "I don't really know." He could have asked for his arm back or a reasonable facsimile but he knew no one short of the healers could give him such a thing. Why bother even asking? He had everything he could want: money, his health and sanity, a couple of close friends that he could trust, a neighbor that let him play responsible adult with her sweet son, his freedom. 

 

Alex shrugged. "There's nothing I really need. The one thing I want you can't give me." He indicated his new, lightweight prosthetic arm. 

 

Walter nodded. "Sorry, boy. You're right. I can't give you that back." 

 

"There is one thing I'd really like to have," he said slowly. 

 

"Go on." 

 

"It sounds dumb." 

 

"I'll be the judge of that. Have you been naughty or nice?" 

 

"A little of both but mostly I've done good things. Some people think I did a lot of bad things and it's true, I did hurt a few people but in retrospect it was mostly good," he whispered. 

 

Walter weighed the many key pieces of information Alex had provided anonymously, including the data needed to bring down the last remaining members of the consortium, avert the alien colonization and the piece de resistance, take down Spender himself. It was probably all in a day's work for the enigmatic spy. 

He nodded his agreement. "What would you like?" 

 

"A family. Someone to love me," he replied softly. 

 

Walter regarded him for a moment, taking in the bent head, the way the sun shone brilliantly on the dark hair, the light blush on his cheekbones, the lowered eyes, the clenched hand on his denim clad knee. 

 

"I thought perhaps the pretty lady and the boy were with you." 

 

Alex looked at Lisa and David. "No they're just friends." 

 

"I'll see what I can do," he replied seriously. 

 

Alex looked at him. The brown eyes looked sincere and for a moment he believed. 

"Thanks. Sorry I took up so much time." 

 

"That's quite all right. Merry Christmas little boy," he boomed. 

 

Alex cocked his head. Funny but that voice sounded vaguely familiar. 

 

Before he left Santa poked around in his pocket and pulled out a small sculpted piece from a Christmas village. He handed it to Alex. It was an old fashioned bakery complete with cooling pies on a rack, the door open in invitation. 

 

He accepted the candy cane held out to him by the elf. He took it quickly and mumbled a thanks. He didn't look the man in the face. 

 

As soon as he stepped aside Lisa nudged her son up the stairs. 

 

*********************************************************** 

 

Alex felt deflated after he left the store. The contagious excitement of the children and the rush of adrenaline as embarrassment nearly overtook his courage were replaced by a feeling of immense loneliness. His mood dropped further when he realized that his Christmas wish had no viable way to come true. 

 

He surveyed his empty apartment. It was as comfortable as he could make it with his limited decorating abilities. Lisa had helped him pick out some colorful throw pillows and a soft fleece blanket that he would cuddle in when he read his books by the lamplight. He also had several family photos in silver frames, cheap paintings he had purchased at the flea market, woven throw rugs and he had painted some bare wooden shelves to be used as bookcases. 

 

He pulled out the village piece and studied it. The roof was covered with little peaks of snow. The windows were frothy white, presumably from steam. The door was slightly ajar and revealed shelves that were filled with cupcakes, pies and cakes. Several children crowded around the wide window and a couple in stiff starched holiday finery were about to step inside. 

 

He boiled some water for tea, took out some ginger snap cookies that had at least a festive air about them, put on Handel's Messiah and relaxed on the couch, letting the music soothe him. 

 

*********************************************************** 

 

Alex unfolded the morning paper as he sat down to breakfast. One hand absently reached for his cereal bowl as he read the headlines. The morning station's mix of classical music was cheerful but he wasn't in a holiday mood. At least it was soothing. He read the biggest headline, "Santa and his elves foil daring daylight robbery." 

 

He began to read about the robber's crime spree and the ingenius way the F.B.I. had set up the sting and captured the suspect. He stared hard at the picture of Santa sprinting across the street in late afternoon rush hour traffic, a lethal gun in his hand. He was closely followed by a lean man wearing ridiculous shoes, tights and a peaked cap. Two uniformed cops were behind a squad car, their guns drawn. Another dark clad figure was apprehending the suspect. His face was in profile but it was clearly Mulder. He studied the undercover agents again and gasped when he recognized them. His spoon clattered against the side of the coffee cup, his breakfast forgotten. 

 

************************************************************** 

 

It didn't take long to find him. He hadn't exactly hidden even though he had reverted from Krycek to his correct birth name. He lived in an apartment in a nondescript building in a slightly seedy area of town. The brick building was well kept and clean if a little run down. He could have afforded bigger and better but it reminded him of his parents' home when he was a kid. 

 

 

Walter and his lovers had made a decision. It wasn't made in haste but it was spurred by Alex's sudden and unexpected reappearance. He knocked on the door and waited for a reply. 

 

Alex peeked through the peephole. Walter was standing there dressed in a heavy sweater, dark wool coat and dress slacks. He opened the door, leaving the chain on so that only a sliver of his body and his suspicious face showed through the space. 

 

"What do you want?" 

 

"I need to ask you something." 

 

"Congratulations on the bust. What's the question?" 

 

"I can't ask you here. I need you to come with me and bring the village piece I gave you." 

 

Walter's eyes twinkled with mirth remembering Alex's obvious discomfort the day before. Alex bent his head down. Walter was left with the vision of pale skin touched by a pink blush and the lush sweep of eyelashes hiding his eyes. 

 

"Where?" 

 

"You'll see." 

 

"Why? Official business?" 

 

"In a way." 

 

Alex was too tired to argue. He tried to remember his lawyer's phone number as he grabbed his coat from the hall closet. 

 

The ride was silent but not unpleasantly so. Walter switched the station to jazz. They were playing Christmas music but the jazz flavor gave it a fresh sound, a cheerful raucous noise that lifted the songs above department store pap sung by music stars anxious to cash in on the holiday. 

 

Alex relaxed though he was still wary of Walter's intentions. What on earth could they want of him now, after all he'd done for them? He hadn't even so much as jay walked. The frown line increased above his nose as they turned away from D.C.'s direction. He was further puzzled when they entered a lushly landscaped gated community. The flowers were brown and faded now, stems without petals, though a few sturdy rose bushes still held a few tightly curled buds that would never bloom. Snow covered the lawns and shrubbery and dusted the tops of picket fences. 

 

Walter turned into his wide driveway and motioned Alex out of the car once he'd parked in the double garage. Alex reluctantly followed him into the house. 

It was warm and cozy with a fire built up in the living room. The huge Christmas tree caught his eye and he ignored the verbal tour that Walter gave him of the house, from the spacious kitchen complete with island to the custom made bed that filled half the space of the huge master bedroom. Alex looked at the blinking lights. There must have been about five or six strings of them. 

 

He saw the care with which the decorations had been hung and the presents wrapped and deposited underneath. He shut out Walter rattling on about the sunken den and the leather sofa that Fox sunk into like a pasha. He cared not one bit about the big screen television or the Jacuzzi though it sounded awfully nice. He had his eyes on the tree and the little Christmas village arranged on the side table and two welcoming faces that stood at either end of the mantle. 

The village had to have been complete. It completely filled the table with all manner of buildings from a church to a library. Plastic trees and tufts of cotton and domestic animals were all arranged just so around the miniature town. There was even a replica model-T car parked there. 

 

Mulder and Doggett looked at him calmly. Mulder wasn't screaming or accusing and Doggett looked merely amused instead of the usual cold glare directed at him. 

 

He took out the piece Walter had given him. "I guess you want this back." 

"Put it with the rest." 

 

Alex found a spot for the bakery. Mulder came closer and picked up a plastic golden lab and placed him close to the kids at the window. He fluffed up a piece of the fake snow and stretched it out to wrap around the little building. 

"This okay?" 

 

Alex shrugged. "It's your display." 

 

"Ours." 

 

"That's what I said, yours." 

 

Fox gave Walter a secret smile. "So you haven't asked him yet. You have incredible patience." 

 

"Ask me what? You have nothing on me. This is violating my rights." 

 

"You won't even own up to helping us?" Doggett asked. 

 

Alex gave him a blank look. 

 

Doggett shrugged. 

 

"Told you," Fox said. 

 

"So what do you guys want?" 

 

Walter walked straight up to him. "We want you to spend Christmas with us. And New Year's Eve and every single day before, in between and after that." 

 

Alex frowned. His green eyes wavered every so slightly, taking in the serious faces of Walter and his lovers stationed behind him. In the bright light of the sun he appeared on the verge of tears. 

 

"That's not a very amusing joke." 

 

He turned on his heel, intent on leaving but realizing all at once that he had no vehicle. He dipped into his pocket, relieved to find some money. There would be enough for a bus at least. 

 

Walter's hand stopped his as he twisted the doorknob. 

 

"Remember what you asked me for in the toy store?" 

 

Alex sighed loudly. "It didn't mean anything." 

 

"Of course it did. We're just asking for you to give us a chance at that family you wanted. Why don't you at least try? It won't cost you anything." 

 

"It would cost me everything," Alex replied softly. He let his forehead fall against the heavy wooden door. The bright afternoon sun had warmed the wood. It was comforting against his skin. He wouldn't turn around no matter how much Walter gently tried to pull his body around. He wouldn't let anyone much less these three see his tears. 

 

Walter gave up and instead hugged him from behind. He snuggled into Alex's stiff, resisting body and nuzzled into his neck. 

 

"Why are you doing this?" 

 

"Because we want you with us. We care for you Alex and we missed you terribly." 

 

Alex trembled as his crying increased. He didn't make any noise. Walter's hands traveled upwards and fumbled around when he reached his face. Tear tracks were brushed away gently with his thumbs. Alex sniffed and rubbed his face and leaned back into Walter's embrace. 

 

Walter turned him around and kissed him when the trembling subsided. 

To Alex it felt like being devoured, possessed. It made him think of Rhett Butler's advice about being kissed often and by someone who knows how. 

 

He was breathless when they separated and he mourned the loss of those strong arms steadying him. Fox and John held up sprigs of mistletoe above their heads playfully. 

 

"You don't need that," he scoffed. 

 

Fox crooked a finger as doubts assailed Alex's face. He took a deep breath and left Walter reluctantly. But Walter followed. With every tentative step Alex's fears of rejection were revealed. 

 

Fox took him into his arms for a hot, wet kiss, then pushed him towards John who was waiting patiently and then to Walter again until he was feverish with arousal, his hair was rumpled from caressing fingers stroking the silky short strands and his lips were red and swollen. 

 

All three of them hugged him tightly. He didn't want to ever leave and haltingly told them so. 

 

"Welcome home and Merry Christmas," Walter whispered. 

 

"Thank you Santa. This is the best present I've ever been given." 

 

 

### The End ###


	2. 2 - A New Love

Four empty glasses were sitting on the coffee table. Walter didn't mind that the boys hadn't used coasters. He didn't care that the remains of dinner were yet to be wrapped. It didn't matter that there were piles of dishes and utensils waiting to be stacked in the dishwasher.

 

The feast to celebrate their private New Year's party had been devoured with gusto. He hadn't begrudged the expense of the meal. It was the finest meal he'd eaten and tasted even better in the company of three handsome men. The lobster had been tender and succulent, the steak perfectly marinated, tenderized and grilled to each man's liking. They had enjoyed a light salad at the end of their meal with rolls that were crusty on the outside and soft as fresh snow inside with pale creamy butter soaking into the fluffy bread.

 

Three pairs of eyes had lit up upon spying dessert. It was a favorite of their newest lover. The tiramisu had been sweet and creamy, the crisp biscuits softened by the mixture of strong coffee and finely aged brandy and the whole covered in the lightest dusting of bitter chocolate.

 

All four had patted their full bellies and groaned. After a sufficient amount of time to rest their heavy stomachs they cuddled close together on the sofa and toasted the night with snifters of cognac.

 

Four empty glasses with just the thinnest splash of amber liquid rimming the bottom stood on the table. The amber liquid caught the light of the fire burning in the fireplace. The light glowed on the four men, warming them even though their activities were making them quite hot. It softened all the remaining edges that good living had done. The love that had wiped away frown lines and smoothed some of the wrinkles had worked on Alex's hardened face too, so that the lines created in his ivory skin would soon be called laugh lines.

 

His green eyes sparkled in the light, still wondrous at the new love that he was basking in. They glittered with mischief and lust and the glass of alcohol making its merry way through his bloodstream.

 

He was kissed until he could barely breathe, surrounded by the men in his new life, all vying for his lips or an inch of skin that wasn't covered by the winter sweater he'd found among the presents under the Christmas tree.

 

He was too hot now and had to squirm his way out of the sweater. Of course John as only too eager to help and Fox lent a hand. He was a little shy at first. He didn't want them to make a fuss over his arm. It was the first time he was baring his body to them and he certainly didn't want his disability to distract them or repulse them.

 

As if sensing Alex's discomfort and uncertainty, Walter shooed the other two away and gathered Alex close to nuzzle his neck. This gave him the opportunity to remove the prosthetic in the comfort of Walter's arms and if he really needed to hide his missing arm for a little while, he could turn sideways and be nestled against Walter's wide chest.

 

Fox took the prosthetic from him gently and placed it on a nearby chair. Alex watched him study it for a moment. That was his Fox, always curious. His temporary absence gave John the opportunity to move in for another kiss. It also let him turn Alex onto his back again and he reassuringly held both of Alex's arms while he kissed him.

 

Fox gave a grunt of exasperation upon seeing his place usurped.

 

"Plenty to go around," Walter said. He pushed all the short strands of hair at the nape of Alex's neck up and sucked at the soft skin he found there. Alex sighed and leaned back into his licking mouth which made his chest press forward and Fox and John found more than enough to nuzzle on to keep them both happy, from his face to his chest.

 

Alex opened his eyes and started up. He didn't get far though as Walter held him in his strong grip and Fox and John lay on either side of him effectively pinning him down. Both were chewing on a nipple. He thought it was really a marvel the way the human anatomy was designed with two of those, among other parts. Perfect for sharing too.

 

"It's nearly twelve," he reminded his hungry lovers.

 

They all jumped up and Walter plucked up the champagne flutes, the bottle of chilled French champagne and a screwdriver that resembled a piece of modern art in its sleek and sculpted design. He successfully popped the cork which landed behind the sofa and poured the pale golden bubbly for each of them.

 

He cleared his throat for the toast. When he had it in mind he held up his glass. "Here's to the new year." The grandfather clock ticked loudly. "To new opportunities and adventures." He nodded at Fox. "To the beautiful moments of life and the silences in between to reflect on those moments." He bowed to John. "And finally, to our new love, may he find love, comfort and peace in his new home and in our arms." He smiled at Alex who smiled warmly back. They raised their glasses in unison.

 

The clock struck twelve. They each took a sip and kissed each other soundly.

 

Walter dribbled a little champagne onto Alex's bare chest. He squealed at the cold contact but Walter quickly licked it off and warmed his skin with his tongue. He brought the glass up to Alex to take another drink and chose a ripe strawberry from the glass bowl where they had been soaking in a wine mixture. He fed it to Alex, took a bite for himself then kissed him, delighting in the mingled tastes of the fruit, the sweetened wine, dry champagne and Alex's mouth.

 

"Hey," Fox exclaimed.

 

"Plenty to go around." Walter smirked.

 

He scooped Alex up playfully and headed for the stairs and the master bedroom. John hit the lights, Fox grabbed the champagne and strawberries and they followed their lovers who were giggling and moaning already.

 

 

### The End ###


	3. 4 - Popsicle Toes

~&~&~&~&~

 

It was a land of ice and snow, a winter wonderland not enjoyed since the four men were at least four decades younger and had not a care in the world beyond avoiding frostbite on tender fingers and toes and ears while they played until the feeble light of a winter sun faded and anxious mothers called them inside.

 

In the backs of their minds before they entered the cold snap that made their home resemble the furthest reaches of Siberia, was the threat of what winter could do, what damage that ice, snow and freezing temperatures could wreck.

 

John recalled finding a frozen body behind a dumpster on his first winter patrol as a New York City policeman. There had been icicles on the man's unkempt beard and his eyes were glass marbles of frost blue. His fingers had been blackened with frostbite. The 'bumsicle', as the jaded hospital doctors called him, had been frozen to the sidewalk and it took him and his partner a real solid effort to pry him off.

 

Walter remembered with a shiver the horror of his best friend plunging through thin ice and into the frigid waters of the lake as they played hockey. Only luck and a focused team of men had rescued him from death as a circle of his friends had watched and cried while holding hands. They'd never be that physically close again unless it was jumping all over each other like eager puppies when they won the football championship a few years later in their senior year of high school.

 

For Fox, it was the haunting image of a victim framed behind ice, eyes like chips of ice open in the agony of a long struggling death as she drowned in freezing water and was trapped in the river. He could only imagine the panic that had gripped her as the cold water stole the feeling in her extremities, tired her out and finally suffocated her until her chest was clutched in its icy embrace and she sunk below the surface for the last time before the ice moved over her. Her long hair had framed her delicate face like seaweed beneath the frosty film of ice.

 

Alex remembered nights spent in an army camp, cuddling in vain for warmth, far from home, far from care, thrust into a rigid life he rebelled against. Every night he had curled up in his cot crying and the tears were nearly frozen to his cheeks.

 

But today they put all bad memories firmly to the backs of their minds. Today was the day for lovers and the sun was bright even through the thick blizzard of soft, fat snowflakes that blew down like flower petals shaken from the clouds. They gathered and grew into a blanket and obliterated the brown grass, hugged upon curves of cars parked on the streets and slowly began to cover roofs, windowsills, sidewalks, until it laid claim to the suburban landscape.

 

Alex gave a final quick glance at the stove to make sure he'd turned off the knobs. He'd insisted on making dinner for Valentine's by himself. The gravy for the pot roast bubbled up thickly in the pot and he covered it up before grabbing his heavy coat and joining his lovers outside.

 

Even while he jammed his feet into his boots and took great care to wrap up carefully from head to toe as Walter had insisted, he checked off every item on his to do list.

 

He had the roast, the gravy, potatoes, green beans, the soft dinner rolls, thick vegetable soup to warm them up after an afternoon outdoors, the healthy salad he insisted upon in light of Fox's usual diet and of course dessert had to be chocolate.

 

He joined the laughing trio as they slid across the slick sidewalk and hopped onto the snowy lawn. The snow crunched underfoot.

 

Alex leaned his head back and opened his mouth to catch the falling snow. Fox joined him in his quest to swallow the virgin snow before it could touch the ground. But Walter and John had other ideas and dragged their entranced lovers to where the snow banked up against the fence. There they began to haphazardly pack together big fluffy snowballs in their gloved hands and pelted each other, always taking care never to hurt.

 

They spent the afternoon playing like children in the snow, abandoning the fight to fashion a snowman, complete with a carrot nose and twig arms and finally falling in exhaustion to the ground and making snow angels.

 

It was more than the cold that drove them inside. They were comfortably tired and ready to eat and warm up. The flakes continued to fall, dazzling white pearls that glowed against the streetlamps for an instant, whipped around in the light breeze in a carefree dance before drifting down to the ground to join their brothers.

 

They shook off the snow from their hats and coats and stamped out the dampness on their boots and headed to the massive bathroom.

 

There they continued to shed their clothing. Alex put on a jazz c.d. in the player and began to sing along.

 

"Popsicle toes are always froze."

 

For emphasis John grazed Alex's bare leg with a frozen foot.

 

"Yikes, Johnny!"

 

John wrapped his arms around Alex's chest and nuzzled his neck. "I love it when you call me that."

 

"You know I bought some chocolate sauce for Valentine's Day to use on you guys later but right now your balls look pretty shriveled. I guess I'll have to call them chocolate covered cherries."

 

John slapped his butt. "It's cold, damn it!" Then he latched his mouth onto Alex's neck and began to nibble until he heard a satisfactory shriek.

 

Alex danced away and sang louder. "You've got the nicest North of America this sailor ever saw." He gave the two former marines a salute. "I like to feel your warm Brazil and touch your Panama."

 

He tugged on John's hardening cock and winked.

 

Walter said, "Hold that thought until we get into a hot shower."

 

Alex pouted. "We've got to seesaw until we unthaw those Popsicle toes."

 

Walter grinned at his lascivious shimmy across the non-skid bath mat but captured him and dragged him under the hot water. John and Fox followed, jostling and kissing each other and splashing water everywhere.

 

************************************************************

 

They sat in front of the crackling fire with their feet up and glasses full of cognac in their hands.

 

Dinner had been a great success. Everyone had loved Alex's cooking. The soup was flavorful and full of vegetables everyone liked from tender carrots to thick chucks of potato, the pot roast was tender, the gravy perfectly spiced with nary a lump, the baked potatoes creamy with his specialty sour cream dressing, the salad robust with Italian lettuces, paper thin slices of cucumber, sweet red onion and red peppers and drizzled with home made dressing and the green beans crisp and tasty. He'd even made garlic butter for the bread.

 

Dessert was eaten with moans of approval. The mocha cake in the shape of a heart was decorated with a rich frosting edging the sides. The aromatic coffee tinged with a hint of vanilla brought out the flavor of the cake even more.

 

They sat in silent contemplation after the dishes had been cleared away and stared into the amber cognac. They were quiet as the snowman outside that was slowly being covered with snow.

 

Walter set his glass down and ruffled Fox's hair playfully. John mirrored his actions and did the same to Alex's thick short hair. Both men were purring with affection at the attention and rubbed against their lovers to encourage more petting.

 

Walter and John took their respective partners into their laps, pairing off.

 

"Want to hit the floor?" Alex suggested.

 

"I'm unthawed. Besides which I'm a little old for the hard floor," John replied.

 

"We can remedy that," Walter said. He set Fox down on the sofa and retrieved some blankets and a comforter as well as several overstuffed pillows from the linen closet. They set up a nest of fabric before the fire.

 

They undressed each other slowly and Walter and John pushed their lovers down onto the plush temporary bed.

 

The fire was making them sweat as was the amorous attention not to mention the finely aged cognac, but they weren't complaining. They only wanted to drown in the pleasure that their attentive lovers offered them. It came down to only exquisite kissing and touching and playful petting.

 

The blizzard was forgotten, the damp cold was warded off by the fire and the heat generated by hot bodies, all bad memories were burned away in the incendiary caresses and kisses.

 

Fox and Alex clasped hands as Walter and John entered them slowly, then they turned and kissed each other as their lovers fucked them long and hard.

 

Fox and Alex grinned at each other playfully. They coaxed their lovers to reverse positions so they could sit atop them. The sweat dripped down their backs and Fox paused a moment to lean over and lick Alex's supple spine. He tasted salty but sweet and he snuck another taste before Walter bucked up hard against him.

 

Alex laughed at the pure joy he felt as he looked at his lovers' faces aglow in the firelight but he closed his eyes as John thrust up and he was lost to the pleasure of his orgasm. Beside him he could hear the loud groans and cries as Walter and Fox reached their own climaxes. John thrust up once more and he was filled with his hot fluid and hugged tightly to John's hard chest.

 

They cleaned up quickly with damp towels then burrowed close together for warmth and comfort. Alex was pillowed between John and Fox, his head on John's shoulder. Fox was firmly snuggled in front of Walter and sleepily reached out to hug Alex.

 

Walter wrapped the foursome up in the fluffy pile of blankets and they fell asleep. It wouldn't do to catch cold.

 

 

_When God gave out rhythm_

_Sure was good to you_

_You can add, subtract, multiply and divide by two_

_I know today's your birthday and I did not buy no rose_

_But I wrote this song and instead I call it, Popsicle toes_

_Popsicle toes_

_Popsicle toes are always froze_

_Popsicle toes_

_You're so brave to expose all those Popsicle toes_

_You must have been Mr. Olympian_

_With all that amplitude_

_How come you always load your Pentax when I am in the nude_

_We are to have a birthday party and you can wear your birthday clothes_

_Then we can hit the floor and go explore those Popsicle toes_

_You've got the nicest north of America_

_This sailor ever saw_

_I like to feel your warm Brazil and touch your Panama_

_But your Tierra del Fuegos are nearly always froze_

_We've got to seesaw until we unthaw those Popsicle toes_

 

 

### The End ###


	4. 5 - Twister

Notes: Inspired by a discussion of where everything goes when you're writing a foursome sex scene.

 

Spoilers: Helpful to read the series from the first to get yourself oriented but you won't be lost otherwise. Alex has one arm.

 

 

They were utterly bored, with each other and the activities that they were limited to. The winter wind howled outside, which let out a brisk walk, never mind Fox's daily runs. They were getting on each other's nerves already and spring wasn't even hinted at in the damp air or the bite of sleet which couldn't decide whether it wanted to be rain or snow.

 

Fox had a case of writer's block and Alex didn't feel like digging his jeep out of the snow bank in the street to go out. Walter and John had left the detective agency in charge of the manager who lived just a couple of blocks away from the building. They didn't want to risk getting snowbound in the storm. The forecaster's promise of more snow certainly looked as if it was going to come true. Besides which, business had slowed down anyways so they didn't feel too guilty.

 

The great outdoors was out as an option but then so was the cable.

 

They sat still long enough for lunch and then an hour where they tried to read quietly while they listened to music. But they argued over their musical choice. Walter wanted Winton Marsalis, Fox wanted to hear Moby to which John violently objected and he suggested the oldies station instead of a CD and Alex didn't much care. He liked just about any kind of music except for country, which he hated. He even enjoyed the occasional opera.

 

He remained silent as his lovers argued over the merits of their individual favorites. He was still trying to figure out his place in the group dynamic. He was utterly convinced of not being a sex toy as his melancholy fancy sometimes tried to make him believe. He was here as an equal, as a lover, as someone who was loved and cherished and yes damn it, adored. He especially got that warm feeling like he'd drunk potent rum when his lovers petted and cuddled him.

 

He didn't have a job or purpose of any kind yet but he was still working on that. He could pay his way financially and he contributed to the household. Why he'd even gotten rid of that old busybody housekeeper that came in twice a week and hired an efficient friendly woman from a reliable agency. He knew there was no way Walter had drunk all that Scotch. Instead, while Hilda was supposed to be vacuuming the carpeted stairs or scrubbing the kitchen's tiled floor, she'd been dipping into the hard stuff. They all breathed a sigh of relief that their lover hadn't turned into a drunk.

 

He was independent and didn't get on their bad side very much. And when he did he knew when to retreat until the mood passed when it came to Walter, knew when to nuzzle or joke with Fox unless he was really pissed and silently would tag along with John when he wasn't in the mood to talk.

 

But the arguing bothered him. He'd always been uncomfortable with the emotions that bubbled to the surface when people fought. It didn't make him a pushover by any means. He could argue and debate with the best of them but a raised voice reminded him of dark times and he wanted to run away and hide.

 

He was tempted to slink away to his own little room where he'd set up his space with his books, CDs and the little knickknacks he liked to have around to make it feel like home. He liked to lie on the day bed, comfortable with a thick quilt and its nest of pillows and read or listen to music. It was a comforting space that was not quite as neat as Walter's things but not as careless as Fox's mess. They might have snickered at his choice of objects d'art but he liked his scruffy teddy bear and the jeweled box that had belonged to his mother among the framed photos of his lovers and the amusing little Russian nesting dolls, which he usually kept on display so that they stood next to each other arranged in order from big to small.

 

He began to stand up to head upstairs to his sanctuary.

 

"Where are you going?" Walter snapped.

 

"To my room," he answered evenly.

 

"Want to play checkers?" John asked desperately.

 

"No."

 

"We've got a whole bunch of board games. How about Monopoly?"

 

Alex shrugged.

 

"Snakes and ladders?"

 

"Hello? Am I a child?" he responded sarcastically.

 

John's face fell.

 

"Sorry," Alex said quickly. "I only like chess, word games and cards."

 

"Poker, then?"

 

"Nah. What other games do you have?"

 

"I'm not sure. They're in the hall closet. Do you want to check them out?"

 

"Sure."

 

He'd do anything to placate John, who looked glum.

 

They went upstairs and poked along the top shelf of the closet, bringing down box after box. They dusted them off and found Parcheesi, Boggle, Scrabble, Taboo and several decks of cards as well as two decks of Uno. Alex pondered a challenging game of Scrabble. He really did like games that made him think but Fox was a word fiend and he always won. Scratch that. He wanted something fun to do, something that didn't require thought or cause heated debates about the validity of a word.

 

He spied another long box and pulled it out, grinning devilishly at the idea that came to mind.

 

"This is it," he announced.

 

"That's Twister, Alex." John pulled a face. Juvenile games were just fine for Fox but not him. He'd only suggested "Snakes and Ladders" in a desperate attempt to keep Alex downstairs.

 

"You'll see. This'll be fun."

 

"I'd rather be walking a beat out in this storm."

 

Alex bounded down the stairs with his game.

 

"Gentlemen, take your clothes off," he ordered.

 

Walter pulled his glasses off and peered at Alex with puzzled brown eyes. It was obvious he'd found a game but he didn't know of any board game that required nudity.

 

"We're playing naked Twister."

 

*********************************************************************

 

"How on earth am I going to put my leg on that yellow spot?" Walter grumbled.

 

"Hey stop complaining. I look like a contortionist," Fox shot back.

 

"I thought you were Gumby," Alex replied with a smirk.

 

"Just wait until you get on the board," Fox said ominously. He sighed as his limbs trembled with the effort of staying upright.

 

John grunted as his muscles protested the twisted state of his arms and legs. People weren't meant to turn their bodies into these positions. But it did afford him a view of Alex's enticing ass as Alex joined the game. Up until then, Alex had been spinning the wheel and directing their positions. He'd left his prosthesis on in order to use both arms.

 

Fox called out a direction and smiled as Alex struggled to reach the red dot.

 

Walter took care not to brush up against him so he wouldn't be pushed down. But at the same time he jostled against Fox, and against the feel of his satiny skin, which sent him shaking. He cursed as he struggled to stop swaying.

 

The three of them shouted out directions to Alex with glee, paying him back in kind. It was only moments before they started giggling as he contorted his lithe but muscular body this way and that, reaching between their legs where he'd innocently brush up against their interested cocks before settling into his position. They swayed and shook as their muscles strained and flexed into their unnatural poses on the colored dots.

 

Fox wickedly licked Walter's thigh. He couldn't help it. The thick muscular leg was in his way and he was tired of the game. His cock needed relief and the only way he could get it was for the game to be over and jump someone's bones. Alex joined the game to see if the big man would topple. Walter swayed between them but didn't fall.

 

John got into the spirit and with a big grin that transformed his serious face into a joyous, twinkling sight, kissed Alex's soft-skinned ass. He couldn't help it. That ass was just made to be kissed and caressed and squeezed. Alex rocked forward a bit. John bit his firm flesh and then licked at the small indentation. Alex shrieked and cursed, trying to smack John's face with his ass. It gave a new meaning to the term butthead.

 

He began to shake with laughter as John continued his assault. As if a single unit, the foursome shook and laughed and trembled until they all fell like dominoes. They collapsed into a heap of jiggling bodies. They sprawled over the plastic sheet, obliterating the primary colored dots.

 

Alex's game had been a success. All the tension of cabin fever had been relieved and the sight of each other's naked bodies had turned them on.

 

Alex rolled over on his back but cuddled closer to Walter who was still chuckling. Walter rolled onto his hip. Alex flashed him a smile and took one of Walter's arms to circle his waist. Walter took the hint and began to rub Alex's hip and thigh, trailing his fingers over the silky skin. Alex turned over so he could continue on the other side.

 

Fox crawled up to John and nuzzled his hard chest. He took a nipple into his mouth and chewed lightly on it while fingering the other nipple so it wouldn't be left out. He pinched it between thumb and index finger, rolling it around between his nimble digits. John groaned at the erotic, slightly painful but very pleasurable feeling.

 

Alex watched as they began to playfully nip at each other, leaving little red marks then licking them away and soothing the small bites. They bit and nibbled at each other's chests and necks until their pale skin was marked and glistening.

 

They were both biters, which was a good advantage to Alex. He enjoyed being nibbled on. Walter on the other hand liked to lick.

 

Walter continued his caress over Alex's bared backside. He climbed on top of him and slid his leg through Alex's thighs. Alex moaned and thrust back. His hand roamed over Alex's back and ass, tracing his spine with a gentle whisper-light touch, outlining his shoulder blades, and then swooping down to squeeze his pliable cheeks.

 

His watched Alex's ass muscles flex and spring back. Alex sighed in contentment at all the attention. Walter began to slide up and down to let Alex feel his hard-on. Alex thrust back, eager to feel more.

 

Fox jumped up to John's dismay. "Be right back."

 

He came back with bottles of lube and before he returned to his lovers, he flipped on the stereo and the bouncy pop of Britney Spears came on.

 

"Argh, change it, change it," Alex urged.

 

Fox switched it to another station. Classical music was on. It was an opera, one of Alex's favorites, Bizet's Carmen.

 

"Leave it on that."

 

"I think we need mood music."

 

"Like what?"

 

"I don't know. How about Polka? Get it? Polka dots?"

 

Alex leaned up and settled on his arms. "I'll bean you if you do."

 

Fox knew the threat was empty. They hadn't hit each other once since living together and he planned on keeping it that way. He switched the knob again to the modern rock station.

 

"What the hell is that?" John grumbled.

 

"Garbage," Alex replied.

 

"Yeah I know it is, but what's the band?"

 

Alex made a face and stuck out his tongue. Garbage was one of his favorite alternative bands.

 

"Don't stick that out unless you're going to use it," John growled playfully.

 

Alex smirked and slid his tongue over his pouting lips.

 

Fox shook his head and changed stations again, this time to jazz.

 

"Much better," Alex purred. He lay back down and Walter pounced on him again. He flipped open the bottle of lube.

 

Fox knelt beside John with his own bottle. He nodded in the direction of the game. Want to play again?"

 

"Why don't we just tell each other where to put everything?" Alex suggested.

 

"Sounds like a plan," Walter replied. He began to apply a handful of the slippery lube to Alex's ass. "I'll put my fingers right up in here." He nipped playfully at Alex's neck as his fingers slid inside the tight hole.

 

"More please," he whispered.

 

Walter bit into the soft skin at the nape of his neck gently and nibbled until he reached his ear. Then he tugged at the lobe with his teeth and suckled it until Alex shivered.

 

"Harder," he murmured and wiggled his ass.

 

Walter slid another finger inside and searched until he found his prostate. Alex jerked and moaned. He slipped his tongue into his ear.

 

Alex turned on his side so that Walter was behind him, still fingering him and kissing his neck. He could also watch John and Fox, who were similarly engaged.

 

Fox was a bottom hog when he wasn't playing at being a dom. He especially liked that role with Alex. It didn't quite work out on Walter or even John. Alex liked games and he was quite playful, unlike Walter, who took his sex seriously or John, who was reluctant to try anything other than vanilla sex but he was starting to get into the spirit of things with their help. He certainly was a good learner and although shy, he enjoyed the lessons.

 

Alex liked being on the bottom most of the time, as did Fox, and while he liked being dominated by Fox, he occasionally liked to be on top of his former foe but they never let their former enmity color their sex lives.

 

He crawled over to Fox and John who were earnestly making out. Walter followed him, his hand still working at his ass. Alex crept up behind Fox and began to help John fondle their lover. Fox expressed his delighted surprise but kept on chewing on John's nipples. Alex was amazed that the man had anything on his chest left to chew on. Those two were animals. When you got John going he was nearly more alpha male than Walter was.

 

Alex brought his hand up for Walter to squeeze some lube into it. He applied the slippery gel to Fox's ass, gently applying it inside him with his nimble fingers until he was thoroughly lubed. Fox made little panting, moaning noises as Alex let two fingers pump into his ass. They worked the ring of muscle until it loosened enough for him to enter without causing undue pain. He didn't realize he was mirroring Walter's actions.

 

He slid into Fox in the same moment as Walter poked at his opening. Twin moans filled the air. Walter began a gentle thrust that had Alex fucking Fox in turn. John was turned on by all the noises and screwing and since he still wanted to be chewed on, turned around in a sixty-nine position to face Fox's leaking cock. Fox latched on to John's cock like a dog with a bone.

 

The sounds of slurping and licking got Alex hotter than he already was. Closing his eyes to the sights of John and Fox sucking at each other didn't help. That damned noise was going to make him come too soon. He opened his eyes again. Of course that grunting noise coming deep from Walter's chest didn't make matters any better. His hot breath tickled Alex's ear and the big hands clutched his thighs and pulled them apart. He loved having his inner thighs caressed and tickled and pushed apart in earnest love-making.

 

He doubled up his efforts in fucking Fox. At least they had a chance of coming at about the same time. He could tell Walter was close and Fox was making those little growling sounds around the mouthful of John's cock. He looked down at John where he suckled at Fox. His cheeks hollowed out when he sucked and his tongue was busy licking at the tender swollen head. Alex moaned and closed his eyes again. He licked at Fox's ear then down his neck to latch onto his throat. He proved to be a good biter too.

 

So good in fact that the sensations of being fucked, sucked, bitten and licked had Fox howling as he let go of John's cock which slapped his throat and coming loudly. With a moan, Alex came inside of Fox and Walter followed suit. That boy's ass was tight. It certainly helped that he worked that muscle so frequently. John swallowed every single drop of Fox's salty semen but was left twisting in the wind, as it were.

 

But John was a patient man. He waited until the three men collapsed around each other, panting and moaning and crawling closer for warmth, had finished shuddering with the intensity of their orgasms. He closed his eyes and put his hands behind his head as if he didn't have a care in the world.

 

He waited until they noticed that he wasn't similarly exhausted and breathing hard. They looked at each other for a moment guiltily. Fox hadn't followed through with his own blowjob and Alex hadn't really made use of his tongue yet. They smiled at each other and pounced. Alex took his cock and Fox his balls, which left Walter with a tight ass to plow. It was good to be patient, he thought, as Walter rammed into him at a slow, steady pace and Alex and Fox seemed to be competing with each other over who gave the best blowjobs.

 

Hopefully the weather wouldn't let up.

 

 

### The End ###

 

 

XF . MAIN


	5. 6 - Tangled Up In Blue

Notes: I wanted to explore the dynamics between the lovers, Alex's relationship to them and of course who could resist a man in uniform?

 

Spoilers: It's helpful to read the first few stories of the series to get your bearings but not to understand the story.

 

Episodes up to Requiem but veers off from canon from there.

Warning: Mention of underage sex as Alex recalls his try at his first sexual encounter with a man.

 

 

"I just don't understand why you wanted me to wear this uniform." John shook his head.

 

"You look sexy," Alex whispered.

 

He admired his lover standing in front of the full-length mirror. The navy blue uniform fit him snugly and grabbed at his firm muscles in all the right places too. Alex turned him around and slid his hands down the fabric to flatten out the stiffness and wipe away the tiny dots of lint that marred its surface. He admired John's polish job on the shoes. He could see his own reflection in them. That's one good thing about living with two ex-marines; they were quite the neat freaks. It drove Fox crazy.

 

"Now it's time to play," Alex husked in that tone of voice that he used to drive his lovers to utmost arousal. He knew what kind of effect he had on people when he used his sexuality and that was the exact reaction he wanted from John.

 

Walter and Fox had gone out for the day. The four of them paired up often so that they each had time with their various partners to explore each other mentally and physically. They were spending the morning at a museum exhibit Walter wanted to see featuring ship artifacts, breaking for lunch and then playing at a video arcade, Fox's choice.

 

He had John to himself today. He had, of course, spent more time with Walter and Fox over the years, though not on an intimate basis and certainly not in a relationship other than that which was based on hatred and mistrust.

 

Alex knelt at John's feet and his tongue poked out, just enough to cover his lip, as he concentrated on unbuttoning John's pants.

 

"I just got into this. Now you want me to undress?"

 

"That's the idea, officer."

 

John shook his head again. "I don't get it, Alex. I didn't think you'd be into these kinds of games. Fox yes, but I just figured you might go for a little rough stuff, given your background."

 

"Why, because so much of my life has dealt with violence?"

 

"Yeah."

 

John took a step back. Alex crawled forward. "Hold still, officer. I'll take care of it as soon as I get these off."

 

John was rigid as Alex rubbed against him. His silky hair parted as he caressed the groin with his head. Alex playfully bit into his hardening flesh then explored his inner thighs where the muscles flexed against his touch.

 

"Alex, I don't know if I can do this."

 

Alex cocked his head and frowned. "Why not? Not horny?"

 

"I didn't say that."

 

"Then what is it? You don't want me?" His voice died away with the little whisper of understanding dawning on him in that moment.

 

John didn't answer.

 

Alex stood, and keeping his head bowed, walked away. Tears were right behind his eyes but he wouldn't let them fall, no matter what. It had been a good ride but he just had to face facts. It couldn't last. He shrugged and nodded his head. John didn't have to spell it out.

 

"I get it. You don't have to explain. You guys don't want me anymore. Were you elected to let me down? Is that why Walter and Fox left? They didn't want to face me in person?"

 

Alex chanced a look at John. John looked pale and startled.

 

"What? No! Alex, we want you. Of course we do. We love you. Don't you know that? We don't want you to leave," he said emphatically.

 

Alex visibly relaxed and he wiped away the tears that lingered on his lashes.

 

"I thought you were just trying to let me down easily." He held his chest where the ache still lingered and where his breath was still caught.

 

"No way. We're not letting you get away, rat," John replied.

 

"Yes, sir," Alex joked.

 

John pulled him close. "Don't even try to make it funny."

 

Alex bowed his head apologetically. "Sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood. I'm sorry, Johnny. I just thought maybe, shit I don't know, I guess sometimes I'm still unsure of all this."

 

John held him tighter. "I didn't realize. Why is that? Don't you trust us now?"

 

"I do, with my life, but I have a hard time believing you guys want me and you love me."

 

John frowned at the bald admission of insecurity. Hadn't they done everything to make Alex feel welcomed and loved? Didn't he know that this was his home now too? He had his own space, a sort of combination sitting room and office that had once been a guest room. It had a bed, one of those day beds with a bunch of pillows that nearly obscured the hand made quilt that covered the sheets, an old-fashioned roll-top desk that Walter had found at a flea market that Alex immediately loved, shelves for his books and CD's and even a small bathroom. The converted office space upstairs comfortably fit three yet could had been re-arranged for four, but Alex needed his privacy and they gave it to him gladly. He loved to see Alex curled up on the bed with a book and his CD player on singing along to the music all day. He'd made it his home too with the little personal touches of photos and trinkets and he even had his own chair in the living room and den staked out as his.

 

John couldn't put his feelings into words. He felt hurt and not a little angry at Alex's continued questioning of their feelings for him. He held his lover at arms' length. He looked hard at him, trying to instill his love into the man's deep green eyes. They glittered still with unshed tears but they didn't waver.

 

Alex stared into John's crystal blue eyes. It was obvious he'd hurt him terribly with his distrust, with his jumping to dumb conclusions. But it was hard to believe sometimes that they loved him as equally as they loved each other. Perhaps it was his genetic make-up that didn't allow him to feel the joy of being loved fully. He knew that was utter crap. It wasn't the melancholy Russian part of him that scoffed at lasting love. It was the hard life he'd led, the complete negation of that emotion.

 

"Sorry," he replied again softly.

 

John took him immediately into his arms. "S'okay. It just means we've got to try harder to make you believe, baby."

 

Alex snuggled into the crook of John's shoulder. All the hard angular planes of his body jutted into Alex but he didn't mind. It was comforting, that lean body. It was like a sharp blade that could chop at any intruding, scary thought.

 

His hard cock deflated at the apparent disinterest that John displayed. He could see that John balked at the role play and game that he had introduced. It was evident in his stiff stance, the lack of stiffness in his pants and the stony expression on his face.

 

Alex pulled away and sat on the stuffed chair, curling up on it in a casual pose. He figured that would help put John at ease. He shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess you're not too crazy about my game."

 

"I just don't understand the attraction. I mean, okay a tight uniform is fairly revealing and sexy but why the cop uniform? It was an honor to wear it when I was walking a beat but once you start wearing it the dead heat of summer it's like being in a sauna. And I grew up in the south. I'm made of stern stuff. It's hot and tight, the material's dark and heavy, uncomfortable as hell. And talk about hat hair!"

 

Alex giggled. "It's still sexy and it is winter still," he reminded him. "It's more than the physical image though." Alex paused. He ran all the erotic things in his mind that turned him on most: the heavy but comforting scent of vanilla, the almost tangible odor of lilacs, pristine white tee shirts encasing hard muscled arms, a tight ass in an equally tight pair of faded jeans, crawling through a sea of blankets blindly looking for a naked mate, fur rugs in front of roaring fires, sweet strawberries soaked in fine French champagne, long walks on the beach at sunset with his bare feet squishing in the soft sand and then having someone rinse his toes clean and his all-time, never-fails arouser, Ravel's Bolero. There was just something about that beat that drove him mad.

 

He wondered what kind of fantasy would scare John more-the dirty, raunchy sex or the romantic mush that he secretly loved?

 

"When I was a teenager I started to realize that I could be gay. I'd sort of fooled around with a friend of mine from school but it was nothing major. Just the kind of stuff that you do when you're young and horny and can get off six times a day." He smiled sheepishly. "I got up the nerve to go to this porno theatre. I even had fake I.D. Cost me a bundle too. Actually it took me about a month just to get up the nerve. I figured I'd at least try to have real adult sex even though I wasn't quite sure what that was.

 

"Anyway I got inside and found a seat in the dark. Maybe ten minutes of the movie played. Christ I was freaking out. I turned red as an apple. There were honest to God muscled, naked men having sex on the screen in every which way. Unfortunately I didn't get a chance to do anything. There was a guy that sat next to me, sizing me up, but before anything could happen there was a police raid."

 

"Shit. What happened? Did you get arrested?"

 

"No, I was lucky. There was a back exit and I just followed these guys out that way. I was in track at school so I outran them. A few of them got caught and a couple jumped a fence, but I ran down another alley which turned out to be blocked by this cop.

 

"I think he took one look at me and knew I was under-aged. I figured I was busted for sure but instead of arresting me he let me go with a warning. I was so embarrassed I wanted a hole to open up and swallow me. I promised I'd stay away from the place and ran like the devil." Alex blushed with the memory. "I still remember how scared I was of being put in jail and having my parents bail me out. I would have been mortified. But I was turned on too. That cop was awfully cute. His smell and the sight of his uniform not to mention how buff he looked in it was enough to make me horny. The thrill of being caught was a turn-on too. Ever since then I've had this thing for cops." He gazed up at John through his thick lashes. "Every time Fox caught me he'd beat the crap out of me but even with all the training I'd been through I couldn't lift a hand against him. I wanted to touch him but at the same time I was scared he'd feel how hard I was because I knew he'd be angry but I was so in love with him I hated to get away." He shrugged again and dropped his head. "Now here I am living with three former law enforcement officers. How lucky can a guy get?"

 

John was floored. "Wow, talk about a fetish," he joked.

 

Alex's eyes twinkled. "I know all the words to the theme song from "cops" too," he purred.

 

John chuckled and sat down on the bed. He let out a sigh. "You see, before I got involved with you guys, I'd never played these kinds of games before. Not with my wife and not even with the few guys I'd slept with during college and when I was in the marines. When I was growing up, life revolved around God, country and marriage. You went to church every week and you whooped it up every fourth of July, waving flags and sparklers and when you grew up you settled down with a nice girl and had a family. I did all that.

 

"Now, don't get me wrong, my choices weren't mistakes. I loved my little boy with all my heart and me and Barbara were devoted to each other. But sometimes I wondered if it was just the idea of marriage that I liked. It was a good life for me though so I didn't give it a second thought. I had my career, a great wife who didn't complain if we made love once a month and a boy who was my pride and joy. I didn't think of myself as gay for a long time. It was just a phase or something to get out of my system. It was circumstances like being in the marines with a couple of hundred horny guys sleeping just inches away from you or maybe I'd drunk just a little too much." He shook his head and dangled his hands between his legs, studying his nails. "It was never something to make a life out of. It wasn't something you talked about at the dinner table and you sure as hell didn't bring home a guy to mom and dad."

 

"But Johnny you have nothing to be ashamed of. You were a great cop and you served your country. You deserve to have someone love you they way we do. These games are just for fun. Dressing up in leather or spanking someone doesn't turn you into a criminal. Well maybe in some states it does."

 

John laughed softly. "I never knew what love with another man was like until now. It started with Fox. When I was assigned to find him, he was another case. I went into it whole-heartedly. I went into it like that with all my work after Luke died and my marriage broke up."

 

"You're pretty determined when you set your mind to something."

 

"True. Anyway Fox to me before I met him was a case until I started hearing about his life. He was a sort of hero and a puzzle I wanted to solve. When I saw a photo of him, boom, I fell and I fell hard. He was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. And I suddenly had no qualms about what I wanted and denied myself."

 

Alex smiled. "Fox was the first man I fell in love with too. I knew him by reputation, knew how tenacious and intelligent he was. Smart as a whip and when he insulted me, twice as biting. But when I saw his picture, I loved him instantly. I wanted to save him or just fuck him. He looked so vulnerable, you know?"

 

John nodded agreement. "What about Walter? When did you fall for him?"

 

"First time I heard his voice growling at someone. Gave me a hard-on you could bat a baseball with."

 

John laughed. "Me too. We're two of a kind."

 

"At least we have the same taste in men."

 

"Fox got me to believe that maybe there is more out there."

 

"He makes you re-evaluate your belief system."

 

"That's a good way to put it."

 

"Makes you believe anything is possible."

 

"That the world is flat and you'll fall off if you let go."

 

Alex nodded. "So don't let go."

 

John smiled. His body relaxed. "It wasn't funny at the time but Fox couldn't stand me. After you helped rescue him and we recovered him, he hated the fact that I was not only assigned to the x-files but he was out waiting re-assignment to another department. He really believed I was part of the conspiracy and he was left out in the cold with Scully while me and Monica took over. He was raring to go after he was healed by Jeremiah but he was grounded for a while until they were sure he was all right physically and mentally."

 

"What convinced him?"

 

"You really missed a lot while you were off fighting with the rebels. Fox went back to work in the violent crimes section. Scully was kept busy doing autopsies while she was pregnant and I was stuck in the x-files with that bastard Kersh orchestrating practically every move we made."

 

Alex's eyes narrowed. "Kersh was almost a big a catch as Spender."

 

"That's for sure. But in the end, justice prevailed. Mostly on account of you." John looked at his lover proudly. "Anyway, I asked Fox for some help on a case and for some reason he agreed. I don't think it had much to do with me. I think he just missed the hell out of the x-files. So there we were, late at night, alone in his old office and something about the way the light caught his face, I just couldn't help but stare at him. I was tempted to make a move but one thing led to another and we had a big blow-up. So I did the only thing I could think of to shut him up. Kissed him."

 

Alex's eyes widened. "What did he do?"

 

"Kissed me back. Unfortunately we didn't get very far since Walter walked in on us. He grabbed me, pushed me against the wall and told me in no uncertain terms to keep my hands off his man."

 

Alex giggled. "That sounds like Walter."

 

"I had no idea the two of them were an item. The night we found him was the first time Walter told Fox how he really felt and they were together since then."

 

"So true love prevailed after Walter cooled off?"

 

"Something like that," he mused.

 

Alex held out his hand and John took it pulling him against him. He slid down to kneel at his feet. "So. Do you want to play my game?"

 

"I think you should get up off the floor and against the wall," he replied in a deep, harsh voice. It was hard to be gruff when Alex looked at him so adoringly.

 

He looked up in surprise but complied with a whispered, "yes, sir."

 

His feet were braced far apart but John took his baton and tapped his legs. "Wider."

 

His feet inched outward until they trembled with tension and the width that had him halfway to doing the splits.

 

John smiled at the muscles stretching underneath the soft gray tee-shirt. Alex's shoulder blades stuck out like angel's wings. Some angel. Luckily for them he'd fallen to earth.

 

He knighted him with the baton then slid it down over his back, over the tense muscles, the straight spine which curved down to his firm ass and poked one cheek. Alex grunted but stayed still. John tapped the baton between his legs. Alex swayed and moaned but he stayed upright.

 

"Maybe I ought to do a strip search. See if you're hiding anything in there." John fingered the tight jeans. "But I can't see that you could hide much in those tight pants. Of course there could be something stuck up that tight hole. Should I check?" He pushed Alex up against the wall. A squeak escaped him as he humped the wall with John's weight behind him. He could feel his hot breath on his neck.

 

"Take your clothes off punk."

 

"Yes, sir," he stammered. Alex turned and undressed with shaky fingers. He stood naked, with his prosthetic off, his clothes pooled at his feet, one hand behind his back and his head bowed with submission.

 

"Very good."

 

John tapped him here and there, lightly bouncing the baton against Alex's hard shaft and watching it sway. Alex licked his lips.

 

"This the way to play your game, babe?"

 

Alex nodded wordlessly. His eyes were bright with arousal.

 

"Turn around again."

 

John tucked the baton under his arm, flipped open the top of the bottle of lube and greased his fingers. He had three of them inside Alex's ass before the man begged for release. But he was patient and thorough. He wanted Alex opened up and relaxed.

 

When he was through he ordered him onto the bed, slid a pillow under his hips to lift his ass up and snapped handcuffs on his wrist and the headboard.

 

Alex squirmed and moaned with frustration. But John just smiled and began a slow strip tease. He was sweating in the now too tight, hot uniform. He carefully folded the clothes and stuck the hat on Alex's head.

 

"That's a good look on you jailbait."

 

Alex began to protest. The hat was itchy.

 

"You have the right to remain silent," John said. He straddled Alex and slid his hard cock between Alex's open lips. "That ought to keep you quiet for a while. Of course once I shove my cock up your ass you're going to be screaming."

 

Alex moaned around the hard shaft stuffed in his mouth. He sucked John eagerly, letting his tongue dance all around it, chewing it lightly when John let him pop it out, then sucking it all the way down his throat again. John's blue eyes were nearly rolling back in his head. Alex let his cock escape his mouth. His chest heaved with exertion.

 

"Johnny, now please," he rasped.

 

"Please what?"

 

John took the hat off his head. Poor baby was sweating like crazy. He smoothed down the soft short hair.

 

"Fuck me."

 

"Fuck me what?"

 

"Fuck me officer! Fuck me already!"

 

John smiled. "I guess you deserve it. Get ready."

 

John slid down his body, applied more lube to his already wet cock and rammed it in.

 

Alex groaned and closed his eyes. He shook his head back and forth. His sounds were sort of moans and squeaks as he tried to hold on until John was all the way in. He uttered another loud moan as John bottomed out and began to thrust. Alex's moans combined with the clank of the handcuff as John's fast quick shoves made him bounce on the bed.

 

True to his word, John made him scream. He rattled the cuffs again as he tried to grasp John. Instead he clutched him tighter with his legs and spurted his come all over the two of them. John held out only seconds longer and came with a harsh moaning grunt, collapsing on Alex with a soft moan.

 

They stayed that way until their breathing evened out. Alex gave a little moan of protest at the weight on his chest and his legs that were still spread out wide. John took pity on him and got up and unlocked the cuffs while Alex shook his legs out to get the feeling back in them.

 

John cleaned them both up and got back into bed. Alex immediately snuggled up to him. He loved to curl up next to his lovers at any time, but especially after making love and definitely after a bout of rough sex. They fell asleep quickly, with John cradling Alex's still sticky body against his. He didn't mind the warmth or tackiness as skin glued to skin. It was rather comforting. Just like the sound of his lover's deep breathing or the whimpering noise he made in his sleep.

 

Fox and Walter returned home not long after. They stepped quietly into the bedroom when they saw that their lovers were sound asleep. They undressed silently and took a hot shower together then crawled into bed on either side of Alex and John. There was a soft sigh that could have come from either one of them or both but they didn't wake.

 

Walter plucked the hat off the post where John had hung it up. Fox shrugged and they both wondered what kind of games they'd been up to. They planned on finding out once their worn-out lovers woke up.

 

 

The End


	6. 7 - The List

The first struggle was finding a space in the sprawling parking lot. Walter maneuvered the mini-van into the perfect spot only to get blasted with a car horn that played the yellow rose of Texas. The car was a long white Cadillac with baby blue trim and a matching interior. The driver was a white-haired old lady whose hair spiraled upwards in a complicated beehive. Her make-up job would have made Mary Kay cry. Her dye job matched the car paint.

 

Walter grumbled as she gave him a dirty look. He'd been there first with his turn signal clicking, no less. Damned if he was going to give up the prime spot. Fuck her, he thought.

 

Alex giggled at Walter's frown and shook his butt a little as he exited the vehicle. Walter wasn't sure if that little victory dance was for his benefit or to snub the old bat who soon found another space not much farther away.

 

Alex shook a cart loose from the corral but the wheels shook. He grabbed three more before he found one that was steady and didn't veer off in a different direction than where he steered.

 

Fox playfully jumped onto the front of the cart and Alex pushed him inside the store like that. Alex picked up speed until the cart nearly flew into the store on its own. They shrieked with glee. Walter followed, grumbling about their juvenile antics and John stoically and wisely remained silent.

 

The American shopping experience stunned Alex time and again no matter how many times he went shopping at the supermarket. The bright, shiny displays, the stacks of goods threatening to spill over into the aisles, the endless rows of fruits that were the color of candies overwhelmed Alex.

 

But he was a sensible shopper nevertheless. He took out the long list he and Walter prepared together. Several items had already been crossed out. Fox didn't need five bags of marshmallows, unless he was planning on doing something kinky with them, and John certainly didn't need three kinds of Italian sausage, not to mention the hot pepperoni sticks he'd written down.

 

Alex always liked to start at the produce section. The mounds of bananas, ten different varieties of mushrooms and all the brightly colored peppers just called out to him to touch and choose. Walter started at the meat section with another cart to save time. He had his part of the list in hand. They separated and went to their targets.

 

Fox followed Alex like a child, wandering off by himself from time to time and coming back with packages of cookies or baked goods that he'd throw in the cart. When Fox wasn't looking Alex would discreetly toss them aside.

 

He spent a good chunk of time in the fruit and vegetable section. He chose red and orange peppers, mulled over the blueberries and raspberries, finally just picking up both and spent time reading the cartons of orange juice debating on whether extra calcium would be a good thing or if he should indulge in the fresh-squeezed the market prepared that was pricier.

 

Meanwhile Walter and John salivated over the meat section. They were big meat eaters and between the two of them, every single meal they planned for the week had red meat in it. Even breakfast.

 

Fox picked out three cereal boxes, all different of course, for their various tastes. Alex put one box back. Christ, it had more sugar than a frigging candy bar. He picked up the rolled oats that Walter liked and a bag of raisins from the bulk bar to add to it, as well as almonds and dried apricots for himself. Fox wanted the sugary chocolate crap with the vampire guy on the cover and Alex tried to persuade him to try the healthier Cheerios. They settled on Raisin Bran.

 

They met up in the dairy section. Alex picked up skim milk, butter and plain yogurt in which he liked to mix his favorite fruits and honey. John traded the skin milk for two percent, but Alex secretly replaced that with the one percent.

 

Fox picked up a couple of gallons of ice cream. It was still winter but sometimes he liked a couple of scoops for a treat. He knew Alex wouldn't object to his choices. Alex had a sweet tooth.

 

Alex surveyed the items in Walter's cart. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "All right, Captain bacon and King cholesterol, what's the idea?"

 

Walter shrugged nonchalantly. John whistled to the muzak they were playing in the store.

 

"Four cartons of eggs Walter? Three packages of bacon plus the baco-bits? Honestly, guys, you are never going to eat all that stuff in one week."

 

"What do you want us to eat? Tofu?" Walter challenged.

 

"No, but I do want you around for the next forty years and that isn't going to happen if you eat your weight in eggs and beef until your heart explodes."

 

"Jeez, Alex, don't be so dramatic," John complained.

 

"It wouldn't kill you to eat some vegetables or yogurt once in a while."

 

"It might," John replied with a grin.

 

Alex frowned and took out two of the egg cartons, removed the pepperoni which John had thrown in and put back several of the packages of ground beef and sirloins that Walter had carelessly tossed into the cart. At John's frown, Alex put one pack of the disgusting cured pepperoni back in.

 

Fox found a couple of the packages of cookies that Alex had gotten rid of and shoved them into the bottom of the cart. John clapped his back in praise.

 

Alex came back with an economy box of movie popcorn that dripped with butter and was greasy with cheese which made the house stink to high heaven of something that resembled unwashed gym socks and cradled a package of double stuffed Oreos, trying to hide them from his lovers. They all stared at him as he added the forbidden bounty to his cart. He shrugged weakly.

 

On the way to the checkouts Fox and John finished loading up the cart with packages of Danish, big noisy bags of chips that rustled in their hands, Twinkies and Chex mix. Fox also tossed in a big bag of sunflower seeds from the bulk barn.

 

Walter laughed at Alex's increasing frown. But there was nothing their little rat could do. After all he loved junk food too even if he wouldn't admit to more than a polite taking of one single chip from the bowl, waiting only for privacy to cram them down by the handful or whether it was twisting apart one beloved Oreo and licking the sickly sweet, sugary, white middle until he was drooling all over the chocolate cookie part.

 

They checked out quickly and paid, hauling their week's worth of booty to the van.

 

Walter drove them home, fighting the exiting traffic and breathing a sigh of relief when they left the store behind.

 

In the back was the rustle of John and Fox poking into a bag of chips. Walter sighed. Worse than kids, those two. Beside him Alex surreptitiously dug into the bag of Oreos and tried to sneak one into his mouth. He grinned around the cookie at Walter and shrugged as if to say, I just can't help it.

 

Walter smiled and called back to John for a pepperoni stick. He shoved one end in his mouth and chewed, while he drove with one hand. Alex's mouth watered at the thought of Walter licking and chewing on his cock like that. He flooded his nearly forgotten Oreo with saliva. Walter looked his way and chuckled.

 

"Can't you wait until we get home?" he teased.

 

Alex grinned around the cookie and reached out one hand to grab hold of the hardening cock in Walter's pants. "Now this is a pepperoni I can sink my teeth into."

 

 

### The End ###


	7. 8 - The Jazz Singer

Notes: Continues the love affair I'm having with jazz music and the loving foursome. Inspired by Diana Krall's "Live in Paris" CD.

 

Song lyrics: "'Deed I do" (Walter Hirsch, Fred Rose)

"I've got you under my skin" (Cole Porter).

 

 

Sweat beaded on his upper lip as his turn came up. The room was dim and smoky, just like you'd expect, with neon beer signs above the bar and row upon row of sparkling glasses in various fluted shapes to hold wine and champagne hanging down like crystalline stalactites. It was an unfriendly atmosphere but only to the one in the spotlight and only until he escaped from scrutiny.

 

The place was empty, due to auditions, but he could sense the bated breath, the expectations of the band. The lone bartender rinsed glasses clean. His hand expertly dried them with a pristine white towel. He thought he could hear the squeak of cotton on glass. The man looked up then turned back to his work. A cigarette stuck out of the corner of his mouth and he puffed on it from time to time. It could have been an affectation, but so could the handle bar moustache. It wasn't on him.

 

Alex counted out "one, two, three" in a slightly shaky voice, then the pianist, the drummer, guitarist and bass player all struck up the song like those cymbal smashing monkeys they used to sell. Maybe they still do.

 

"Do I want you? Oh my do I, honey, 'deed I do," he sang tremulously. His voice gathered courage as the bass player smiled, nodded, strummed the strings. The guitarist leaned over his instrument, closing his eyes. The pianist seemed lost in the words, in the gleaming black and white keys that tinkled in the stillness of mid-day, though it was dark inside the bar.

 

The song was upbeat and joyful and it made Alex smile as he sang. He thought of his lovers and the song took on new life and his limbs loosened up so that he danced a little and hugged the mike in his one hand.

 

The piano player's hands chased each other over the keys. They were delicate hands, the hands of a watch maker maybe, but the soft hands of the woman playing were deceptively strong. The black bass player's hands were calloused but made beautiful music as he accompanied her. The drummer nodded his head in time to the thumping of his instrument, his shoulder length light brown hair waving like a mermaid's in the sea and shining purplish under the neon light above the stage. Jeff, the only name he could remember, played his guitar like a pro.

 

The song ended on a raucous note. Alex was amazed that the band played a little club. They should at least be backup to a contemporary jazz artist.

 

He was breathing hard when he finished. His nerves had been over-run by excitement. He turned to applaud their skills.

 

"That was great. Let's hear another," Jeff instructed.

 

"Sure, I'd love to. What do you want to hear next?"

 

Jeff shrugged. "Your pick this time."

 

"I've got you under my skin?" he suggested.

 

"One of my favorites."

 

He nodded to the rest of the band. Jeff picked up his acoustic guitar and Amy, yes that was her name, he remembered now, began to play a simple arrangement of the jazz classic. Alex didn't care. It was one of his favorites too and singing it with a full orchestral accompaniment, just a piano or even a cappella would have been okay too.

 

"I've got you under my skin. I've got you deep in the heart of me. So deep in my heart you're really a part of me," he sang sincerely.

 

It was one of those slow, honey-toned, romantic songs that would have been luminous if tangible. The words made his face light up, especially when he thought of Fox, John and Walter. Just thinking of them or hearing their names made him light up. The song made him feel that way too. Like he'd drunk rum punch and it hit him in the guts and flowed into his veins like pure alcohol. He sweated under the lights and the influence of being on stage, the center of attention, the background music just an accessory to his rich, raspy voice. Perspiration was a big part of music too. He felt like Louis Armstrong as he took out a neatly folded handkerchief that Walter had tucked into his jacket pocket. He'd fussed over getting so dressed up. Jeans and a nice shirt would have sufficed, but John insisted on his dressy trousers and Walter had thrust the jacket at him, insisting he wear it. Luckily he'd gotten away before Fox could throw a freaky tie around his neck. Ties made him feel like he was being lynched.

 

He tucked the white square back into his pocket and shook hands with the band members.

 

"That was great. Our best audition yet." James Dixon offered his hand while holding on to his bass.

 

"Thank you. You guys are terrific."

 

"I think it's unanimous," Jeff declared. "What do you guys say? Do we have a new singer?"

 

"For sure," Kris agreed. He slammed on the drums with his sticks and tapped out a solo worthy of Gene Krupa.

 

Amy murmured agreement.

 

Alex felt like a new member of the rat pack. No, more like Tony Bennett and he wanted to belt out "fly me to the moon". But it was too late, he was already on the moon, he was out there with the moon and stars, somewhere out in space, with his head in the clouds. He was Dean Martin with a real martini in his hand making his head spin. He was the guy that the girl from Ipanema picked from among all the others.

 

He thanked them all profusely and made bare sense of their work schedule before heading for the door. Jeff shook his head. He'd call the man later and make sure he knew when to show up for rehearsals before they went on stage for the first time. It was obvious everything he said had gone in one ear and out the other.

 

A hand stopped him on the way out. Alex frowned and was ready to pull out a weapon. Like it or not, it was a violent world and he still had enemies, therefore he still carried a piece, plus the switchblade he'd tucked into his fancy suit jacket.

 

"Congratulations!"

 

He was grabbed in a great bear hug as Walter clutched him close. John patted his back and Fox managed a kiss on his cheek.

 

"What are you guys doing here?"

 

"I know you said we'd make you nervous but we had to come and see you audition. We were hiding in the shadows," Walter explained.

 

"Well hide no more. You are sitting front and center when I perform."

 

"Damn straight," John agreed.

 

"Let's have a drink to celebrate," Fox suggested.

 

"I think the bar's closed," Alex replied, sneaking a look at the bartender. He wouldn't look out of place in an old Boston pub. As if overhearing the conversation, the bartender looked up and beckoned them closer. He smiled and slicked his moustache like the villain in a silent movie.

 

They took stools at the bar and the bartender, who introduced himself as Jim, set up stout glasses in front of them, poured them each a generous splash of Glenfiddich over ice and congratulated Alex on his hiring.

 

When Walter tried to pay, Jim waved the money away distastefully, saying it was on the house. They thanked him and drank in silence after toasting their lover's success.

 

Alex's nerves were on edge again. He hoped he could pull it off. He'd never actually performed in front of an audience unless you counted the school choir a million years ago. That thought made him smile. It was a far cry from a smoky club. But then so much of his life was different. He shrugged as he debated with himself. Adventure won out.

 

The band members packed up their instruments and chatted amiably as they headed out the door. Alex raised his glass to them as they left. The foursome finished their drinks, thanked Jim again and headed for home. Alex couldn't help but sing all the way.

 

 

### The End ###


	8. 9 - Debut

Notes: Inspired again by Diana Krall's "live in Paris" CD. 

 

Song lyrics and music: "Devil may care", Bob Dorough and Terrell Kirk; "I'll string along with you" Al Dubin and Harry Warren.

 

 

They sat huddled around the tables with the single glass-enclosed candle in the middle, its flickering flame painting the cheap, ruby glass with licks of yellow fire. Smoke drifted in the air like writhing snakes, from cigarettes with dangerous amounts of ash hanging from their glowing ends. They dangled from hands whose owners hunched closer to keep their conversation to muted whispers, cancer sticks momentarily forgotten in anticipation of the music.

 

The spotlight focused its pale round light on the black clad figure on the stage. He took the mike down with one slightly shaky hand. The occasional loud whisper or hastily choked off cough punctuated the air. The crackle of ice in a glass stirred by swizzle sticks sounded like the rattle of a drum.

 

The delicate laughter of a woman on a blind date reached Alex's ears. The joke was old but the man showed promise of a future relationship. She made like she'd never heard that one before. Alex smiled while adjusting the mike. He saw the man's hand dart under the table to hold her hand.

 

The tinkle of piano came from the dark as Amy warmed up, while the purple and blue neon lights played over the stage revealing the band in silhouette. The piano gleamed in the darkness. Amy's pale hands fluttered like birds over the keys. Jeff sat still as a statue with his guitar in his hands. Kris sat poised with his drumsticks and the thrum of the bass had Alex's heart pounding on his debut night.

 

He gazed out at the crowd, waited a few more beats before he sang. His sharp eyes picked out his lovers. They all smiled and raised their glasses in a toast.

 

The band made "devil may care" Alex's signature opening song. It would start the evening's set every night they played. With his input they arranged a new standard menu of songs but they would compensate for any requests and juggle other songs into the set when the mood of the band and the audience dictated.

 

It was a good song for his smoky voice, in a bouncy, almost manic arrangement, cynical in tone.

 

"No cares for me. I'm happy as I can be. I've learned to love and to live, devil may care."

 

The audience clapped their effort and Alex relaxed.

 

They slowed down to a romantic slow number, one of his all time favorites, "I've got you under my skin." He found when he sang this one to his lovers they would pounce on him and kiss and touch him until he could barely get the words out. It got the audience swaying gently and a few couples got up to dance.

 

His honey and whisky voice shaped the lyrics like the rough tumble of a waterfall, each word following the next, like a steadily dripping stream until they pooled together like a warm, slow river of molasses.

 

He held the microphone delicately, cradling it in his sweating hand like a fragile object, careful not to get too close to avoid the squeak of feedback.

 

He paused momentarily before they went right into another slow number "I'll string along with you."

 

"You may not be an angel, cause angels are so few. But until the day that one comes along I'll string along with you."

 

John winked at him. Walter grinned and Fox smiled like a loon at the sentiments.

 

They switched moods again to a bouncy but romantic number "'deed I do", which showcased the instruments nicely. The band played, as they always did, with a great professionalism and as a cohesive unit that enjoyed making great music together. Even shy Amy smiled and giggled in delight.

 

Alex bobbed his head in time to the music. The crowd began to clap before he finished the final verse. The band segued immediately into "Fly me to the Moon", one of the happiest songs in the repertoire just for the sheer joy it inspired for its sound as well as the lyrics. They clapped madly again at the old, familiar song.

 

They took it down a notch with a slow number, "The look of love". It was sensuous and languid, slow and sweet as honey. Alex took a drink from the glass of club soda. His debut was a smash. He couldn't help but smile. The audience ate up his voice and his charming delivery as well as the seductive eyes that played over the audience's flushed faces as though he were singing directly to each one privately.

 

He dabbed at his forehead with a white handkerchief. Walter had tucked that into his jacket pocket. He smiled his thanks.

 

He continued on with a few bluesy numbers. He strove to find the lowest notes to evoke the spirit of Sarah Vaughan while singing the seductive "summertime" and then found the trembling, warbling notes for a rendition of "stormy weather" that recalled Billie Holliday's sad voice. He succeeded in making the songs his own but still paying homage to the great ladies of jazz. He continued on with a lovely and wistful "autumn in New York" that had people sniffling at the bittersweet lyrics.

 

He was in his own world, a smoky world of jazz and blues, sad and bitter love songs blended with sassy, sexy lyrics and the music that accompanied him was at times smooth, raucous, lonely or trumpeting its pleasure. Whatever the mood called for, his band backed him up. He was pushed back in time to the beginnings of this music, into hardship and forbidden joy and lost loves. The music evoked the sadness and tragedy of lives cut short, like Charlie "Bird" Parker, and the incomparable "Lady Day" as well as those that survived and thrived, like the well-loved Louis Armstrong and "the divine one", Sarah Vaughan.

 

They finished the set on an upbeat note with "I love being here with you."

 

By the end Alex was sweating. Droplets dotted his forehead and temples and pooled at the edge of his collarbone. He dabbed at his face and neck. He was startled for a moment as the lights extinguished and they were left in darkness broken only by the strobe of neon.

 

The first break came too quickly. He'd barely had enough time to absorb it. The stage darkened and the musicians all headed for the bar or restrooms.

 

Alex wound his way through the throng to see his lovers, while pocketing the little notes people thrust out at him. He'd take a look at them after.

 

Walter pulled out a chair for him and John gave him a drink, "Just club soda with a twist of lemon."

 

Alex kissed his thanks. Fox hugged him tightly and from the next table there was congratulations from the lone gunmen. Surprisingly Scully was there too. She wasn't alone either. Monica Reyes was next to her, sitting very closely. When Alex chanced another sly look, he realized that the agent's slender arm was around Scully.

 

He hadn't seen Reyes for a long time. He hadn't seen Scully much either. She wasn't a frequent visitor to the house even though he insisted that Fox invite her over with the promise that he'd make himself scarce. Fox still spoke to her often and he'd gone to visit their son on occasion. It was strange to know that a piece of Fox lived on separately from them. William was a healthy, happy, nearly normal child. The alien part of Fox's DNA had endowed their son with skills that would probably never be fully explored to their full potential but they didn't have a problem with that. He hoped it wouldn't be long until Will was a constant in their lives.

 

He nodded at them politely. They raised their glasses to him and toasted his success. He was taken aback but recovered quickly. He chatted with everyone about the excitement he felt while on stage. It was positively addictive. He even spilled a bit of his drink.

 

"Can't hold your club soda?" Fox teased.

 

"Actually, I can't hold anything right now. I'll be right back."

 

He headed to the men's room. On the way back he stopped at Lisa's table. She had brought her sister to hear him sing. His former neighbor was glowing. He didn't know if it was due to the glass of wine in her hand, her excitement about his big night or the fact that she and Byers seemed to be getting along very well. They eyed each other across the room until Byers couldn't stand it anymore and decided to join their table. Frohike and Langly found it amusing as well as frustrating.

 

When he reached the table, he pulled out the slips of paper he'd stuffed into his pockets. A few were for requests. He knew most of the songs. A couple of them were propositions. He blushed at a couple of the suggestions then burned them in the ashtray before his lovers had a chance to see them and get upset.

 

It was time to get back on stage. Alex hurriedly showed the list of requests and they arranged them quickly in order. They started with a fast number, "if I were a bell", with Jeff setting aside his guitar and picking up a fiddle. The song was fast, nearly too quick, but Alex belted it out like a pro, bursting out into laughter only when the song was finished. It was joyous and fun and they got a standing ovation for their efforts.

 

They took their bows then slowed the pace with "lullaby of birdland". It gave Alex a chance to catch his breath and bring the mood lower. The second set was a bit longer. Together with the requests from the audience plus their regular repertoire, they were exhausted when they left the stage.

 

Alex felt as if only a few moments had gone by before the third and last set. He spent that time with his lovers, sitting between them selfishly, not wanting his perfect night to be interrupted. They sensed his need to talk or be perfectly silent, supplying him with cool drinks and loving arms around him. Walter gave him a fresh handkerchief when the other one became damp with sweat.

 

Byers and Lisa flirted and played footsie at their table, her sister Wendy abandoned the oblivious lovers to scout out prospective husbands at the long bar and the remaining gunmen tried unsuccessfully to buy drinks for a couple of single women at another table.

 

Scully and Reyes were holding hands under the table. Fox pretended to leer. They giggled at the goofy faces he was making and the shocked expressions of several of the other patrons. A pair of out and proud lesbians was one thing, but a group of equally out gays sitting at the next table, on the same night, proved a bit much.

 

Alex joined the band for the final set. They began with the sad classic "lover man" (a few people raised their eyebrows at that) and ended with the flirtatious "I got it bad and that ain't good." The audience groaned that the night was ending. It had all happened too fast.

 

Alex helped the band pack up their instruments. He chatted with them while they worked and had a final, alcoholic drink to share their newfound success. Amy, though shy and usually quiet, was particularly animated and told Alex several times how proud she was of his singing. The manager was happy as well and added several large bills to their usual pay. He bade everyone good night. The loudspeaker broadcast instrumental jazz to the few patrons left to close out the bar. It was nowhere near as exciting as the live jazz.

 

Lisa and Wendy congratulated him. The lone gunmen gathered around him to pat him on the back. Both Melvin and Ringo went home alone but Byers was spending the night with Lisa. Luckily Lisa's babysitter was keeping David for the night. Wendy left with several phone numbers tucked into her purse.

 

Alex went out for some air in the back alley. He'd sent Walter, Fox and John to the car, with the excuse that he wanted to soak in the club's atmosphere a bit more before they went home.

 

The sound of giggles came from the darkness and he moved closer to find its source. As soon as he saw who it was, he shrank back, away from the glare of the streetlight and the high beams of a car in the parking lot. Two figures, one tall and dark, the other short and pale, were entwined together, laughing and smiling and trading kisses.

 

Monica had Scully pinned against the brick wall and her hand was inside her cropped denim jacket. Alex couldn't see what she was touching but he could hazard a guess, from Scully's low moan. He blushed and shook his head.

 

They were going at it pretty enthusiastically. The bump and grind of feminine hips was making his pants a little too tight. Monica's jean clad leg thrust between Scully's. Scully had a short skirt on and it was now pulled up around her waist. Monica bent to take her mouth in a bruising kiss and they ground against each other in a brutal fashion. Alex winced. That was going to leave bruises in some tender places. They came with a cry, Monica's low and deeper than Scully's high-pitched stifled scream.

 

He cleared his throat and kept his face turned away for a semblance of privacy.

 

"Sorry to interrupt ladies. I just wanted to say thanks for coming. To the club I mean. I, uh, thanks for your support. It was a great night. I hope you come by and listen to us again. Anyways, I was thinking you could drop by for dinner. Friday okay? I'll make the guys' favorite, lasagna."

 

"Sure, Alex. We'd like that." Monica looked into Dana's eyes for confirmation. Dana smiled and nodded. "We'll bring William by too."

 

"I know Fox would like that. Good night."

 

"Good night Alex," they chimed in unison, still giggling at his embarrassment.

 

He shook his head and smiled and made his way to the car. He was asleep before they reached home.

 

 

### The End ###


	9. 10 - Meet The Neighbors

Notes: Inspired by a student in a classical music competition. 

 

 

Alex used to hate visiting. He considered it a tedious chore, especially when he was a young boy. He'd rather be out playing with his friends, throwing a ball around in the park or playing with those cheap, green plastic soldiers you bought by the bucket. He didn't want to go with his mother to visit his old relatives, who smelled of cabbage, wrapped in sweaters that stank of mothballs. He didn't want the old women who tinted their hair blue with the scent of perm solution not quite washed out, to pinch his cheeks. He didn't like the way the men patted his head condescendingly with their thick tobacco stained fingers.

 

He found ways around it though. Once when they went to visit the spinster sisters his mother simply called the Italian ladies, he politely inquired if Maria Theresa had birds nesting in the big fluff of armpit hair visible every time she lifted up her arm in her sleeveless dress.

 

His shocked mother scolded him soundly while her cheeks had flushed a rich pink, but when they got home, he could hear her giggling through the bedroom door. He didn't go there very often after that. He certainly missed those chocolate and plain biscuits they used to serve with the afternoon espresso but his mother sometimes snuck a couple into her clutch purse when she did visit on her own.

 

Now he went visiting with Walter, John and Fox. He didn't find it arduous after he got used to it. And most of those people needed getting used to.

 

Their next-door neighbor was a bit hyperactive. She was one of those super moms who baked enough goodies for every bake sale to feed the entire population of a third world nation and managed to attend every single sporting and school event that her two children were involved with. Hannah and her husband Richard were two of the nicest people in the world but they reminded him a bit of Maude and Ned Flanders from the Simpsons, with a little Ozzie and Harriet thrown in. Their sons, Jason and Jack were just as wholesome, with mops of blond hair cascading over their foreheads, teeth as white and even as Chiclets and milk-fed sturdy bodies. They were almost too good to be true. It certainly helped that Jack hero-worshipped Alex and that his dog was as loyal and trustworthy as the rest of them. Keisha was a beautiful golden lab, as blond as her owner.

 

On the other end of the spectrum and at the end of the block, was Mona and Dirk, absent-minded, rather loud parents, with two foul-mouthed, pierced, tattooed teenagers, who regularly trashed their parent's house and cars. They were from the Ozzie Osbourne end of the scale, but they were also the most brilliant rising abstract artists, with Mona making phallus shaped statues and mobiles out of found objects and Dirk creating paintings on the scale (both in size and quality) of Jackson Pollock. Alex had bought one small painting but hadn't been able to persuade Walter on Mona's innovative but scandalous work.

 

Then there was the recently moved in Jess and Stephen Harper, a handsome couple with two daughters. Jane was at that gawky stage of adolescence. She looked nothing like her parents, with their tanned skin, hazel eyes and dark blond hair. Jane was their opposite. She was thin and rangy and flat-chested, with frizzy brown hair and pale skin. She was shy and brainy with a love of long distance running. She would often go out at the same time as Fox did on his runs and Alex suspected that she had a big crush on him and timed her own runs to coincide with his.

 

On the other hand, Elizabeth was the sum of her parents' good genes, with long dark blond hair, skin that turned burnt almond in the summer, freckles sprinkled across her upturned nose and lithe limbs, except for her prosthetic leg. It had been amputated due to bone cancer that had luckily not spread. She was pretty nonchalant about her missing leg and went the whole summer long wearing shorts, showing off her athletic leg with the attached sneaker on it as she went for long walks around the neighborhood.

 

Down the road, there was Mrs. Kowalchuk, with thirteen cats, more or less, who lived in an impeccable house filled with china figurines with nary a strand of cat hair and a virtual shrine to her late war-hero husband. It was filled with black and white photos, the kind that lucky photographers take on V-day, his medals, letters and cards he'd mailed back home to his high school sweetheart, all proudly and creatively displayed.

 

One of his favorite homes to visit was Mr. Svetlov's. He always looked a bit frumpy, with his frowzy hair, sweater vests that were always pilling and pants pulled up halfway to his armpits. But he was a big talker, spinning tales of his life in communist Russia, his defection, the war years and everything that led up to his whirl wind life as a concert violinist. He often took out his cherished violin to play. Alex loved those times best, sipping hot tea (with a little whiskey dashed in, Mr. Svetlov's idea), munching on sugar cookies and listening to Prokofiev or Mozart or Bach.

 

He could make it sing joyously or bray mournfully, even seesaw like a drunken monkey on a tossing ship. Then he'd send Alex and his lovers on their way with a brown bag full of cookies. The little pieces of broken cookies would rustle as they walked home with full stomachs and their ears still humming with classical music.

 

Sunday morning was dawning with the promise of summer in the air. Birds disturbed Alex's sleep. He nestled closer to Fox, who was next to him. Fox gave a sleepy murmur and a sort of snore then curled his arm around John. Alex didn't want to get up to close the window. The breeze was welcome in the stuffy room. He pulled Walter's arms closer around his waist and snuggled deeper under the covers to try to block out the noise. He fell asleep again for a couple of hours before the alarm went off.

 

They had breakfast together quietly, all four trading sections of the newspaper back and forth. Walter did the dishes while Alex shook out the tablecloth. Sparrows looked at him expectantly as he shook the crumbs over the driveway.

 

"Looks like the new people are moving in today," he pointed across the street.

 

"Let's go meet the neighbors," Walter suggested.

 

This time he readily agreed.


End file.
